


Sun-Kissed.

by CuriousOh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental mindreading, Background Case, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Gratuitous angel mojo, Holding Hands, Implied Consent, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oneshot, Repressed Feelings, Salt And Burn, Sappy Dean Winchester, Short & Sweet, Summoning Circles, Touch-Starved, metacommentary, seance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousOh/pseuds/CuriousOh
Summary: Two Totally Platonic Best Friends hold hands at a Séance and nothing happens. Because they are not gay.Well actually platonic isn't the right word.... and not gay isn't quite accurate.Oh, and Dean thinks having feelings is turning him into a teenage girl.





	Sun-Kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I read this post: http://forgottenwhispersinthedark.tumblr.com/post/181037576279/the-dude-who-invented-the-rule-about-holding-hands
> 
> and then I wrote this. So... yeah. Enjoy.

They were at the ghost's next suspected target's house, one of those new age types, who was the best friend of the second victim. They still hadn't IDed their ghost, but a pattern was emerging. Everyone who Tracy cared about was being killed or run out of town one by one. When they arrived to interview their would be target's house, they had apparently invited over their coven's high priestess, to lead a séance. Yeah, it always ends well with witches. And Dean can count the number of successful seances on both hands, considering the hundreds if not thousands of salt and burns, the success is not likely.

But they were invited. Agent Aguilera and Agent Bloom, if they cared to question Susan asap. Which of course they wanted. Sooner they can bust this ghost the sooner they can save the victims and get home to the bunker. Without Sammy coming on account of his busted foot , Dean was truly missing a third wheel. It was getting harder and harder to keep his feelings in check.

They follow the group to a room with candles set on a circular table, how does everyone always have a circular table ready to go at these things? He's been in many people's homes whether occupied or not, and very few times they have a circular table, but bam, every single séance he's attended ill-fated or not has had a circular table. When most people go furniture shopping, do they weigh the possibility of having to pull together a quicky séance or exorcism every time? Or are some people, perhaps those more likely just drawn to functional furniture like that. It's weird. At to be honest sort of bothers Dean.  
  
They start to sit down at the same circular table which draws Dean out of his thoughts. He's got to be ready for shit to go sideways as he's learned is a very high chance at anything like this. Best case scenario is that ghost is a no show. Which considering the activity on this case, he isn't about to depend on. Dean and Castiel meet eyes for a moment, with a nod as they survey the room. It's unspoken but both are formulating a plan just in case Casper the murderous ghost decides to show up.

Dean hopes that the black candle sticks are cast iron or something, because the options look pretty slim at best. The room is practically empty expect the table, chairs, candles and candle sticks and a crystal chandelier that with probably swing around wildly hitting people in the head the moment that Casper decides to take a breath. Dean could go on another mental rant about how most people's home furnishings and decorations are decidedly dangerous but he won't. It would be a bit hypocritical, considering that they're on a ghost hunt and all that Dean is armed with right now is a lighter, but they weren't expecting to get pulled into the door, with a, if-you-care/want-to-talk-to- Susan Somebody you'd best be willing to participate in this little ceremony that will make her feel at ease.

There have been very few times where seeing a ghost has ever made Dean feel at ease, and Bobby was all of them. Not being a great friend, encouraging ghosts to come to your grieving friend. Speaking of being not a great friend, Castiel who's always forgetting about personal space, brushes his shoulder on his way sitting down next to Dean at the table, way too close to be platonic if he were any other person but Cas. Cas always felt a little warmer than anyone and the heat coming off of Castiel made Dean feel cold in comparison on his other side. Which is nice, it's like sun-bathing when the shadows change and you're half-way in the shade, before you move back in the sun. Dean ignores the part of his brain that tells him to move completely into the metaphorical sunlight. Yep, just friends.  
  
Doing what they do, most days are used for sleeping or driving and they don't get much sun. Not to mention that it almost always look stormy everywhere they go, in L.A. even there was a weird cold front that arrived just before they came that the weather felt practically Canadian and left shortly after them. It feels like storms have been following him all his life. When he imagines retiring, he thinks he'd like to be one of those sunburned assholes on a beach somewhere, just taking in the sun day after day. He'd probably get bored after a while, but considering that Dean has only briefly sunbathed once for a case, he likes to imagine that he'd never get bored and the sun would lightly heat up his skin until the end of his days.

They're getting into the holding hands portion of the séance, honestly the part that Dean's most excited about. It might make him a giant teenage girl, well he is summoning a ghost, so he guesses that everyone at the table is a teenage girl if there's anything hollywood got right about teenage girls. But getting a chance to hold his platonic best friend's hand is making him excited.

Dean holds back the roll of his eyes of his own annoyance at his feelings and stops himself from wiping his hands on his pants before taking Castiel's hand in his. It's something that Castiel would ask about and Dean doesn't want to explain that he was worried that his excitement made his palms sweaty. Castiel will just assume everyone's hands always feel like this, he probably hasn't held hands before now. With that, Dean gets a little more excited. Yep, Big dumb teenage girl, table of one, right here.

The contact feels like too much and not enough at the same time. Castiel's hand warms Dean's in a way that warms his face, his throat and chest. It's like he can feel the sun on his face, even though he knows that he's probably feeling all hot because he's blushing. Because that's what happens when one holds the hand of one's platonic best friend, yeah. Completely normal and platonic.

He indulges himself for a moment, basking in the light and stormy scent that is Cas. Pretending that they're holding hands for entirely different reasons. Because they do it regularly, and their shoulders don't bump against each other's on accident, it's with a purposeful lean into each other's space. It's comforting. On the couch in the bunker watching movies, in the car, when Cas is riding shotgun, and in the various diners while Sam is breaking down the case he found for everyone.

Dean's eyes sting a little, like they've been rubbed raw. He just went from dumb teenage girl writing her name over and over in her notebook to full on sad drunk teenage girl. Which is sobering enough, more so when the girl on Dean's other side finally grabs his hand, he looks over, feeling her clammy hand, probably scared about what they're about to experience. Smart girl And gives her a smile to try to calm her down. She gives him a small smile back, and he throws a wink her way to break the tension in her face. It works and she pulls the man's hand in her other hand up when she covers her mouth to hide her giggling.

Dean pretends for a moment that he and the girl are friends that they're winking and sharing conspiring smiles because they've been talking about the men who they're holding the hands of, for a while and now it's finally happening.

It's a nice day dream that in an instant Dean is knocked out of when everything gets hairy. Casper showed and It's one of the two options they thought, a woman who died slowly and alone in a car crash just inside of town. Castiel lets go of his hand before Dean is able to and he's reaching in the middle of the table to reach the maybe not iron candle sticks with that hand, Miss terrified girl's hand holding on tight to his other, after retrieving it he spares her a glance where she looks frozen on the spot looking at the spector.

And Dean shakes his hand off and tells everybody to get out now.

Unfortunately these people think they've just done the impossible, successfully conjoured a spirit, and not the summoned a murdering psychopathic ghost probably hellbent of revenge for something that might have once made sense. Most of them at staring blankly at the woman who looks made of light in the center of the table, floating in the candle and light up with that damn crystal chandelier. One of them seems to be crying with joy, that must be the high priestess.

She reaches out her hand and Obi-Wan-Kenobis suspected target number three to her. Throat first, it's always throat first. That's when people get the message that they might be in danger. Dean again, yells as loud as he can, “Run.” And the people ditch, everyone except the target and the girl who was sitting next to Dean. Dean shoves her aside fighting against the wind that's sucking everyone towards the ghost. She turns to look Dean in the eyes, terrified, and he repeats, “Run.” And the girl nods and starts running, looking back once at Dean, Cas and Susan somebody and shutting the door behind her.

Dean hits the ghost with the candle stick, and it does nothing but irritate it enough that it let goes of Susan and grabs a hold of Dean instead. Castiel tells Susan Somebody to run and begins to yell in Angel Speak his full smite get-up on, eyes glowing, and Dean knows that he has to shut his eyes. The room fills with light and when it fades Dean opens his eyes, Castiel smiles, and says, “Let's burn that bitch.”

The room has papers all around the tables and chairs are all upended and the chandelier is missing about half the crystals on one side. Susan somebody is on the ground, face away from where the formal light show was and passed out. “Kitchen?” Dean asks, having not paid attention when they first walked in, and Cas points through the door that Susan had trade to leave by. He digs through the cupboards until he locates the spice cabinet and takes the salt. He returns to the room, where Castiel is huffing a little, and draws a circle around the passed out Susan.

Dean turns to Castiel to quickly assess the damage, “Okay?” He asks, not seeing any obvious damage. Cas gives a thumbs up, and Dean makes a move to go to the car, Castiel following closely enough behind him, that Dean can feel his breath on his neck. He tries to keep going forward and not to lean back into Cas,

They get into the Impala, unbury the bitch, salt and burn that sucker. Ghost no more. And as Dean's feel a little sore in his back, and dirty from a job well done, Castiel touches him with the two Angel fingers and he's no longer sore and dirty.

Dean cocks his head at Cas, “What're you doing? Don't waste the Angelmojo like that.”

Castiel smiles as he holds to fingers to his forehead, “I heard your thoughts.” And they are back in the motel room that they rented for the night, and before Dean can orient himself or ask which thoughts. Castiel's lips are on his. And it is so much better than stolen hands, brushes and glances.

Dean kisses back holding onto Cas's stubble covered chin and without moving his lips from Castiel's, finds Cas's hand, threads his fingers through. Feeling the sun through out his body as he finally steps into Castiel's personal space, dropping his hand from Castiel's chin, to his back, and bringing him even closer.

 


End file.
